


Through the Shadows

by babs



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26679862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babs/pseuds/babs
Summary: Jack is left broken after a mission gone wrong. Daniel to the rescue.
Relationships: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	Through the Shadows

"You can only come to the morning through the shadows." JRR Tolkien

He was going to die. Jack knew it—he just didn't know when it was going to happen. Soon, he thought, although thinking was becoming increasingly difficult.

It was no use opening his eyes—he knew what he'd see: the brown metal cage surrounding him. He knew there were air holes above him, but cramped as he was, he couldn't even lift his head to look up at the small bit of sky.

God, he hurt. He couldn't remember the last time he'd hurt this much. Maybe Ba'al? Maybe Iraq? And he was so thirsty. They hadn't given him water or food since he'd been put in the cube as punishment. He knew the thirst was going to get him long before the hunger. He had what? Three days, maybe four if he was lucky. But how long had it been before the cube? He couldn't remember. 

So he'd tried to escape—wasn't that his duty as commander of SG1? Especially when he wasn't sure where his team was. The only certainty was that they were not in this prison camp. 

The soles of his feet burned with inner fire from the beating they'd given him for his escape attempt. His muscles ached from his curled up position. He was pretty sure his left wrist was broken, but maybe it was just sprained. Fraiser would..no. No she wouldn't, because he was going to be die here. Crammed into a metal cube in a prison camp on P1Y..P1Y...

Please please let Daniel and Carter and Teal'c be safe. Please. His chest tightened but he didn't even have enough liquid in his body for tears. So so thirsty. Think of...think of...not water. Daniel. Think of Daniel. Daniel's eyes were the color of...once at the cabin, the lake had so perfectly reflected the cloudless blue sky and one time when he'd looked at Daniel off world, he saw that same color. But Daniel would never know. He was going to die and Daniel was never going to know how Jack felt about him. 

He let himself drift—not quite asleep, not quite awake, only aware of the pain and the thirst. He dreamed—could a person dream while not asleep, he wondered—of his lake. Of sitting on the dock with his feet in the cool water and the loons calling from a more distant lake while deer came from the woods on the far side and drank delicately from the shore. The sky was that same cloudless blue of Daniel's eyes and then the sky darkened and lightning flashed while thunder rumbled and the wind blew. 

It was raining and his face was wet and there was blessed blessed water.

There were voices and Jack smiled. Maybe he'd finally see Charlie and his dad and grandparents again. Would God let him see his son before he sent him far away?  
"Jack! Jack, stay with me."

The voice was familiar but he couldn't open his eyes.

"We've got him, Daniel" someone else said, another familiar voice. Someone he should know.

"Major Carter, do you need assistance?" 

"I can't get the..damn, we should have brought medics."

"Jack. You're safe. Stay with us. Don't leave me."

"Feretti, let's get going."

* * * *

It wasn't the cube but it wasn't the cabin. His mouth hurt and then there was cool moisture brushing across his lips.

"Easy," someone said—a female voice. "Colonel O'Neill, you're at the SGC. You're in the infirmary."

He dared to open his eyes and saw an angel. No, not an angel—Janet Fraiser. She held a cup in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"Ice chips," she said and when he opened his mouth, she put a spoonful in.

He thought he would cry at the sheer delight of the sensation. He closed his eyes but--

His team. Where was his team? Were they still back on that planet? He tried to sit up and discovered to his dismay that he couldn't so much as lift his head more than an inch or two.

"They're all safe," Fraiser said. "They've been sitting with you since they brought you back." She moved just a bit to the side. "Daniel's finally fallen asleep."

Jack looked at the other bed where Daniel was indeed stretched out and sound asleep. Even in sleep, he looked exhausted.  
How long, Jack wanted to ask but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. He could hear the words in his head, but he couldn't make himself say them. He clenched his fist in the blanket and the doctor leaned closer.

"Colonel? Are you okay?"

He looked at her and opened his mouth again. He was so thirsty. Maybe if he could just get enough water. He grabbed her hand, motioned to the cup and she placed another spoonful of ice into his mouth.

Water, he wanted to say. Please, just a cup of water. He shook with the effort of holding the words back, couldn't risk them being heard.

He reached out for the cup. She handed it to him and he cradled it close to his chest.

"We'll see about getting you some food a little bit later. Until then, try to rest." She bent down so he could look in her eyes. "You're safe. They're safe." She patted his shoulder—she'd always believed in hands on medicine.

He closed his eyes against the caring gesture and concentrated on the cool condensation on his fingers. They weren't going to take it from him.

* * * *

He drifted for he didn't know how long. He measured time by the visits from Carter and Teal'c and the tests Fraiser ordered. Through it all there was one constant--Daniel--who only left when Fraiser demanded. In the endless nights when he couldn't sleep, he felt the pressure of Daniel's hand covering his or the soft touch of Daniel's hair brushing against his forearm when the other man finally gave in to his own need for sleep. 

There was nothing wrong with him other than the sprained wrist and the nearly healed stripes on his back from the lashing. All was healing as it should but still he couldn't bring himself to speak. So he lay there, silent, frightened, and a prisoner in a place that should have meant freedom. There were times he pulled the sheet and blanket over his head and breathed heavily--unable to face Carter's sympathy, Teal'c's stoicism, and the reflection of his pain in Daniel's eyes.

"Please, Janet. He needs to get out of here." The voice was Daniel's, a rough whisper.

Jack turned on his side to look not sure if he was supposed to be hearing the conversation.

"He isn't speaking. He's withdrawn, barely eating."

"And you said there's no physical cause for him not speaking. That he's healing."

"Physically yes," Fraiser said. "Mentally…"

"Mentally, he's still in that prison camp," Daniel said. "Janet, he needs to get out of here. Believe me. Trust me."

"He can't be alone."

"I know that. I've already spoken to General Hammond. SG-1 is planetside until Jack's better," Daniel said. 

"Daniel," Fraiser's voice grew even softer.

"He will get better. I know it."

Jack closed his eyes--he wished he could believe as much as Daniel did.

* * * *

"You ready?" 

Jack looked up from studying his sneaker clad feet. Fraiser was not looking happy—he could practically feel the chill of her disapproval of Daniel's plan. 

In truth, he wasn't sure of Daniel's optimism either but he needed out. He needed to see the sky, to sleep in his own bed, to pretend at least for a little while that nothing bad had happened.

Daniel nodded as Jack met his gaze and motioned for Jack to get in the wheelchair Fraiser insisted he take to the surface and to his home.

He didn't know whether he was glad Carter and Teal'c weren't here to see him off or not. He still wasn't sure if they were lurking somewhere in the hall or elevator so he closed his eyes as Daniel pushed the chair and prayed no one would see how far down he'd come.

"Here," Daniel said as they exited the elevator and pressed something into his hands.

It was a pair of sunglasses and Jack put them on before they'd even gone through the last interior checkpoint. 

The sun was low in the sky and Jack realized he had no idea what time it was or even the day. He got in Daniel's car when Daniel directed him to and sat while Daniel folded the chair and put it in the trunk.

He looked around and noticed the back seat held two suitcases and a cooler along with various bags. A trip? Surely Daniel wasn't going to defy Fraiser's orders. Jack didn't think he could handle being around anyone else anyway.

"You ready?" Daniel asked as he got in the car. He pressed a hand to Jack's shoulder. "It's gonna be okay."

Jack stared straight ahead, unable to look at the concern he knew was in Daniel's face.

Daniel handed him something again, and Jack clutched the water bottle tightly—letting the condensation drip over his fingers and resisting the urge to bring them to his mouth.

"I thought we'd go to your cabin." Daniel threw the comment out as they drove down the mountain. "If you're okay with it. Are you okay with it?"

Jack tried to form the words, but he settled for nodding his head.

"Good. Good." 

Daniel fell silent, putting on one of Jack's CDs and they drove through the evening as the sun set behind them. He let the song of the asphalt and Daniel's tapping fingers on the steering wheel lull him to sleep—the first he felt that he could relax since they'd found him in that cube.

"Jack."

Daniel's voice was soft and he opened his eyes to see bright lights. 

"Truck stop," Daniel explained. "I really need to get some coffee and go to the bathroom." 

He looked over to see Daniel smiling at him. Jack straightened in his seat and let out a groan at stiffened muscles. His stomach growled.

"We can get something to eat. It's...um...just past midnight. You wanna go in the restaurant or should I get something to go?"

Jack pointed to the restaurant and nodded.

"You gonna be able to walk?"

Jack nodded again and got out the car. The air smelled of rain and diesel fuel and there was the low hum of semis idling as they made their way across the parking lot.

He followed Daniel into the men's room and splashed cold water on his face after taking care of business and washing his hands.

The restaurant was thankfully nearly empty and they sat in a booth close to the exit doors. The waitress was a perky young woman whose energy made Jack feel very old. Could she see it? Could she see his shame? His cowardice?

Jack felt a moment of panic when she asked for his order. Daniel's knee nudged his under the table and Daniel gave his own order. He looked back at Jack, eyebrows raised.

But Jack shook his head, took a deep breath and only said a hoarse, "Number one."

The coffee was strong, the food was plentiful and filled with all the things he knew Fraiser would have a conniption about him eating, but every bite tasted of freedom.

Daniel smiled at him, his glasses slipped down his nose, and Jack had to fight the urge to reach across the table and push them back up.

They got back in the car—Daniel with his travel mug filled with coffee. 

"Drive," Jack said as his heart pounded and his mouth dried.

"I'm good." Daniel started the engine. "I'll let you know if I need a break."

Jack nodded and they drove through the dark night. Jack turned his head so he could study Daniel's profile.

The dashboard lights reflected off Daniel's glasses, hiding his eyes, but Jack had seen them enough. If someone had asked, he could have described every mood of Daniel's simply by looking at Daniel's eyes. 

That was the thing about Daniel—unlike Jack, he'd never quite learned the secret of hiding his emotions. Oh, the expression might be a smile or even a frown, but any member of SG-1 knew that the smiles often hid a deep hurt. Jack liked to imagine he knew every emotion of Daniel's, had some magical skill of knowing what Daniel was feeling. Except for all the times he'd brushed them off, hiding his own dark secret from Daniel.

Because what if he was wrong? What if he wanted Daniel more than Daniel wanted him? He knew Daniel was bi. One drunken night after Sha're's death, Daniel had talked about his relationships in college, in grad school and they'd included both men and women. It had to be enough, Jack told himself firmly. If all he could have of Daniel was his friendship, it would be enough. It had to be because there was no way in hell he wanted another year like the last had been. 

He remembered the first time they'd put him in the cube and how he'd dreamed of Daniel, the memory of Daniel coming to him in Ba'al's cell and staying with him. But then--then they'd pulled him from the cube, half crazed with thirst and broke him. He didn't want anyone to know just how broken he was.

"Are you okay, Jack?" Daniel asked, a quick glance to the side.

Jack nodded and then dared to reach out and place his hand on Daniel's thigh. He heard Daniel's soft intake of breath and then Daniel covered his fingers with his own and kept driving through the night. Jack closed his eyes. He was safe in Daniel's hands.

* * * *

He woke up with a start when he realized the car wasn't moving. 

"Sorry." Daniel had already unbuckled his seat belt when Jack looked at him.

"I need to fill up and was going to get some coffee."

Jack frowned. Daniel looked exhausted. He wasn't sure what time it was or even where they were, but the sky was lighter in the east. He'd spent the better part of the past few days drowsing, and still felt tired while Daniel had been at his side or doing whatever he needed to at the SGC. That wasn't even mentioning the six weeks his team had been searching for him. And now Daniel was driving almost sixteen hours to get him to the place he needed most of all.

"Jack?"

"You're tired," he finally said. Words felt strange coming from his mouth—as if he still wasn't sure if there would be a beating to follow.

"I've pulled more than one all-nighter." Daniel rolled his shoulders and tilted his head from side to side. "Driving is nothing compared to preparing to defend a disseratation." 

"I can." Jack motioned to the wheel.

Daniel shook his head. "We've only got about four or five hours to go." He opened his door. "You want anything? You need anything?"

Jack closed his eyes against a pang of longing and fear. "Me too."

Daniel got out the car, waited for Jack to unfold his body and stand.

His legs were unsteady and Jack put out a hand to brace himself against the car. He looked at the distance to the building and realized he wasn't going to make it if he tried to walk.

"Let me get the chair." There was a beep as Daniel hit his keyfob to open the trunk. 

Jack shook his head when Daniel brought the wheelchair around. "I'll wait."

Daniel stared him down. "It's just temporary. No one knows you and you look like you could use some coffee too." He leaned closer to Jack and spoke softly even though there was no one around to hear. "This doesn't mean you're weak."

Jack let out a breath and sat down. He hoped Daniel recognized his pissed off face that meant Daniel was right and he knew it.

Thankfully the self service food court was almost empty. Jack swore Daniel sighed in relief when he saw the Starbucks sign, although he knew Daniel was going to drink any coffee in sight.

He motioned for Daniel to go for his coffee and wheeled himself towards a table. Daniel came a few minutes later with a laden tray—coffee, pastries, and sandwiches.

"I got you some coffee." Daniel motioned to the large take-out cup. "Don't worry.. It's just plain old coffee."

Jack nodded and took a sip. How Daniel could like stuff that tasted like they burnt the beans, Jack would never understand. He opened the wrapper on the sandwich when Daniel pushed it towards him and took a dutiful bite—more to keep Daniel from getting alarmed than because he was hungry.

For his part, Daniel drank coffee, ate the second half of Jack's sandwich when Jack pushed it away and both the pastries. 

A janitor worked nearby, sweeping a mop across the floor. Jack could smell the disinfectant and a half-buried memory surfaced. The sandwich and coffee roiled in his stomach and he swallowed hard to keep down the bile.

"I have you," Daniel said and he pushed the wheelchair towards the restrooms before Jack could do anything.

He felt a wet paper towel on the back of his neck as he sat trembling in the aftermath of his sickness. He put his hand up to hold it in place, met Daniel's fingers, cool and wet.

"Feeling better?"

Jack opened his eyes to see Daniel crouched down beside him, his eyes worried, his eyebrows drawn up in question.

Jack nodded. "Didn't agree with me."

"I guess not." Daniel patted his shoulder. "I'll let you take care of anything else you need to. Are you steady enough?"

Jack pushed himself from the chair and stood. Daniel smiled at him totally aware of the game Jack was playing.

"I'll just..uh--you know." Daniel did that little finger wave thing that Jack knew so well.

Jack grabbed the paper towel from his neck as soon as the door closed behind Daniel and covered his face with shaking hands. He could feel the hot prickling of tears and bit the inside of his cheek. 

Five hours Daniel had said. He could hold it together for five more hours.

* * * *

Except he didn't. The sun blazed in the side window and Jack thought he couldn't breathe. Daniel stopped the car along the shoulder and knelt by Jack's open door reminding him to breathe, to look at where he was, reminded him he was safe.

Jack turned away from Daniel when they started driving again, a towel hung against Jack's window as a shield against the sun, the other windows opened to the cold spring air.

Safe, safe, safe, the tires hummed along the road and finally the sound changed to the crunch of gravel, the air was even colder, and he heard Daniel sigh.

"We're here," Daniel announced.

Jack opened his eyes to see the cabin, complete with some smoke rising from the chimney. He vaguely recalled Daniel saying something about calling McPherson's to ask them to open the cabin. 

"Let's get you inside," Daniel said.

Jack walked in the door and felt like he could finally breathe again. He looked around the cabin without really seeing. He wandered to the bedroom and looked at the bed with longing. He lay down, listened to Daniel unloading the car, and pulled the quilt over his head.

* * * *

There was a weight next to him. Jack opened his eyes to find moonlight streaming in the window, silvering Daniel's hair. Wait—Daniel was in bed with him?

Nature called and Jack eased out of the bed. He came back a few minutes later to find Daniel hadn't moved from his position on top of the covers. 

Jack stood, unsure of what to do. What he wanted was to lie down next to Daniel, breathe in the other man's scent, listen to breaths and the small murmurs Daniel sometimes made in other languages, feel Daniel's warmth against his in the same way Daniel would wind up next to him in their sleeping bags if they had to camp off-world. He'd never quite figured out how Daniel could manage that maneuver—and he made sure that Daniel was never aware of it by carefully moving his own sleeping bag out of range before Daniel woke. 

Moonlight highlighted worry lines that hadn't been on Daniel's face weeks ago. Hammond had filled him in—Carter, Teal'c, and Daniel stumbling through the Gate, the rescue mission that failed because he'd been taken to another planet, all of his team working tirelessly to find him and bring him home. No one would be left behind—including Jack. It was the one thing that kept him going even when he'd been so certain he would die. If they hadn't found him alive, they would have brought him home anyway.

He sat down on the edge of the bed—unwilling to lie down again when the memories surfaced. He hadn't told anyone—not Fraiser, not Hammond, not Teal'c, not Carter, and most importantly, not Daniel of how afraid he'd been. How he'd lost his nerve, his courage, his dignity. How he'd failed them and himself.

He looked down at his hands—the ones he'd used to kill the other prisoner when they'd been pitted against each other in a death match. Maybe it was a blessing he'd never known the other man's name. But, God, he was so ashamed. He couldn't wash away the guilt—it seemed as if the grime from that place would never leave him, as if it had burrowed its way into every pore and even now burrowed further into his body until even his soul would be forever tainted.

Except--except his soul was already tainted—the blood of how many soldiers on other sides, the blood of the men under his command, Skaara, Kasuf, and even Sha're. And the two he would never be able to forgive himself for—Charlie and Daniel. 

He clenched his hands into fists, the need to get out, to run, to cleanse overwhelming—to not taint Daniel's soul too. He had to go. 

I'm sorry—he couldn't even say the words out loud to the sleeping Daniel. I'm sorry.

He didn't even need a flashlight to go to the lake. The path was familiar under his feet—he knew where the pine tree had spread its roots, where a groundhog had once had a burrow. The moonlight spread across the lake—stark and severe. He stood at the water's edge, away from the dock. There was a thin film of ice—cat ice his mom used to call it-- he broke it easily with one step and he found himself walking a few steps in. 

He knelt in the water, cupped his hands and drank as if he couldn't get enough. The water tasted of dirt and plants. He dipped again and again, let the water fall through his fingers, so cold his fingers burned with it.

Someone was calling his name, frantic, angry. 

"Jack! Jack, no. No, you have to--"

And Daniel was there, tugging on his arm, pulling him up and away. 

I need to, he tried to say. 

He was in the cabin again and Daniel was drying his legs with a towel, but they weren't getting dry.

"Daniel?"

"Jack, you back with me?" 

Daniel's lashes were spiked with tears behind his lenses. Had Jack made him cry?

"I thought—you were--I saw you in the lake and I didn't know if--"

Jack shook his head and then touched Daniel's face. Daniel turned his cheek into the caress. 

"You weren't trying to--ki--end it, were you?"

"I--" How could he tell Daniel? How could he ever let him know what he'd done, what they'd done to him? "I was thirsty. I needed--"

There was an intake of breath, Daniel's against his fingers. Daniel brought his hand up, covered Jack's, squeezed gently.

Daniel got up with a grace Jack envied and came back with a quilt and a blanket. He spread them over Jack.

Jack looked at the quilt—his grandma had made it, when his grandfather had been a POW during World War II, each patch from a scrap of clothing, each piece a memory.

Daniel patted his arm and disappeared again although Jack heard him puttering around in the kitchen. 

He looked at his hands—reddened from the cold water. They were shaking again and it had nothing to do with the cold.

Daniel came back with a tray laden with two mugs and some toast. 

"I thought maybe this would help," Daniel said as he sat down. He handed a mug to Jack before taking his own.

Jack sniffed—hot chocolate with the cinnamon Daniel always added. He took a cautious sip and then looked away from Daniel's intense gaze. He studied the toast, buttered and sliced in four precise triangles. 

"Jack."

He couldn't tell him—he couldn't. Not here. Not in the cabin where the words would linger and hang in the air and never clear.

He looked towards the door and stood up. He could feel his breath quicken.

"Jack. We'll go outside. Just--here, put on a jacket. It's too cold." 

Jack put on the jacket, but was out the door before Daniel could say any more. 

He went down to the lake again, but this time walked onto the dock. He was vaguely aware of Daniel following, saying something under his breath.

"I brought chairs," Daniel whispered and Jack wondered why except it was night and night always seemed the time for whispers.

He sat and heard Daniel sit next to him. He leaned his head back and looked at the sky—the moon full and lighting the sky so that only the brightest stars were visible. He wondered which star had been the sun on the planet where he'd been held prisoner, thought of the heat in the cube, the overwhelming thirst, the other prisoner.

He brought his hand up to his mouth, wanted to bite the skin to keep himself from speaking.

He risked a glance at Daniel who was looking at him with concern. The moonlight reflected off his glasses. For a wonder, Daniel remained silent, waiting for Jack.

"I..." Jack had to stop when his breath caught. "I killed a man."

Daniel said nothing, only continued to watch him, but he covered Jack's hand with his own gloved one and squeezed very gently. It's okay the gesture said. I'm here.

"Another prisoner."

Daniel continued to hold on.

"He--we--they didn't give us enough water and they--the guards put a jug of water on the ground and..."

He tilted his head back when he could feel the tears in his eyes, tried desperately to keep them from falling in his shame.

"They picked the other man and me. I didn't know him. Never knew his name. I refused before and they put me in the cube. Don't know how long that time."

He swallowed and looked out over the water—water—all he could drink if he wanted. "It was...I was so thirsty. And they made us fight. I couldn't go back in the cube—not again."

He looked at Daniel, needing him of all people to understand. "I was so thirsty and I wanted the water. I--his neck. I.." His hands trembled under Daniel's touch. "I killed him for the water." 

He couldn't bear looking at Daniel any longer—couldn't bear the understanding he saw, and the tears he'd forced down surfaced until he was bent over sobbing, the sound echoing into the cold night.

He was enveloped in a warm embrace and he rested his head against Daniel's shoulder and continued to sob out the guilt, telling him of other times in the cube, the beatings, the fear.

There came a time when the night grew silent again, his tears exhausted, his voice gone hoarse.

Daniel was making soft sounds, one hand on the back of Jack's nape, caressing and soothing. "I'm here, I'm here."

Jack lifted his head from Daniel's shoulder. Daniel's face was wet and Jack realized Daniel had cried along with his pain. 

Daniel gave him a gentle smile and reached up to wipe Jack's face. 

Jack touched a finger to Daniel's cheek. "You--"

"You survived," Daniel said. "You survived until we could find you." He took Jack's hand again. "We didn't think we were going to find you alive and when we saw that cube..." Daniel's voice caught and he shook his head. "And I thought that I'd never..."

Jack felt his heart beat just a little faster and he coughed. "When I was in the cube the last time, I knew I was going to die. There was just a little bit of sky."

Daniel's lips parted in that way they did when he was thinking, and Jack wondered just why it was he knew all those little habits and expressions of Daniel's when he couldn't have told you any of the ones of other men he'd served with.

"I thought of the lake. The way the water reflects the sky and the way your--" He looked away. "I thought I'd never see you again." There he'd said it. It was out in the open for good or ill.

Daniel's breath came out in an audible whoosh.

"Jack." 

"Jack, please. Look at me."

When he turned to face Daniel once again, Daniel was smiling—not the small fleeting smiles that were his normal ones, but a full on grin.

"Me too."

Jack took in a gulp of air and found he had no words. His hands shook and he put them between his thighs to still them.

Daniel reached out, touched. "Just breathe," Daniel told him.

Jack nodded, grabbed hold of Daniel's hand and looked over the lake. They sat in silence once again. Sound carried over the lake—rustles as animals moved through the forest, the hoot of an owl and an answering call, the low throb of distant traffic and the closer sounds of Daniel's breathing, soft, quiet and the hypnotic lap of waves against the pebbled shore. 

The sky lightened as the moon sank lower and he watched as the lake turned gray and pink and gold. A loon called from a neighboring lake and he shivered at the sound.

Daniel's hand squeezed his, and he glanced at Daniel who pointed to the far shore. A deer stood at the water's edge. She drank, graceful, delicate, and then her head came up. She turned and bounded into the woods again, gone as if she'd never been there.

He sighed—tension released from his body, but more importantly from his soul. 

"Jack?"

"I'm okay," he said. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, that the nightmares would come again and again. But he had Daniel in his heart, and Carter and Teal'c by his side—strength and steel.

He looked at Daniel and attempted a smile—it felt strange on his face. "I'll be okay."

Daniel smiled, touched his hand to Jack's face, and leaned in closer. "*We'll* be okay."

Jack touched his lips to Daniel's—chaste, gentle. He didn't know how it would all work out, but Daniel believed and that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Hurt/Comfort Bingo Round 11: Thirst/Dehydration


End file.
